


Sinking

by FatalYaoi



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mild Abuse, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:05:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalYaoi/pseuds/FatalYaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albert gets a promotion at Umbrella and his possessive streak shines through. What happens when Chris won't lie down and accept that he is 'owned' by Umbrella or Wesker for that matter? Oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siberian74](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siberian74/gifts).



> This is a oneshot for the lovely siberian74 who has asked me to do a few prompts that I just loved the ideas for! I'm sorry it's taken so long but I've been slowly trying to get everything else out first. Thank you so much for the pm and I really hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is completely AU with Umbrella and Piers and just—accept the AU. That is all. I'm not even going to give you a back story to what the hell is happening in the story. You're just going to have to read and accept what I've written… just like I had to do while writing.

Chris moaned and closed his lips around the fingers that were offered to him. The man behind him shuttered quietly at the sudden warmth and stopped thrusting momentarily to bite lovingly at Chris's back. Albert chuckled darkly when Chris arched into the bite. Chris's grip on the sheets beneath him tightened when the blond continued, pushing faster and deeper while another moan filled the room.

As Albert's thrusts got deeper, they grew rougher. The blonde's teeth dug into Chris's skin and Chris let out a hiss of pain. The pleasure forced the pain to simply ghost past Chris's senses and, before long, Chris was sure there was a trickle of blood coming from his back.

"Albert—" Chris panted, gritting his teeth through another moan. "D-Don't bite so h-hard."

Wesker growled in response but did not stop. Chris opened his mouth to say something just as the blond reached around and grasped his hard weeping cock. The noise that escaped his throat simply was not human.

* * *

"You have to be more careful next time," Chris muttered as he exited the bathroom to see Albert lying naked and newly showered on the bed.

"Why is that, Christopher?" the blond asked simply as he watched Chris cross the room, towel around his waist.

"The mark on my back was bleeding until a couple of minutes ago. You'd be surprised how hard it is to take a shower when you have a fresh wound being pummeled by water."

"I apologize. Perhaps my enjoyment got the better of me."

"I'm proud of you for the raise, I am, but you know how I feel about Umbrella. It's great you're CEO now but nothing is going to change."

Albert sighed and stood from the bed, making his way to the still nude Chris who stopped searching through Albert's drawers to look at him. Albert walked directly up to Chris, lifted his head with a finger, and kissed his lips. It was a gentle, reassuring kiss, but Chris knew it was in vain. It wouldn't change anything.

"I'm not going to change something that works," Albert said once he pulled from the kiss.

"Even if it's killing hundreds of people."

"Chris, as Captain of the B.S.A.A you need to let it go."

"How do you expect me to just let it go?" Chris asked, eyes hardening and eyebrows furrowing.

"Another round?" Albert asked suggestively, tugging playfully at the towel around Chris's waist.

"No, Wesker. This isn't a game. I can't just stand by while these people—"

"You can and you will, Christopher," Albert stated seriously, arms crossing over his chest and eyes glowing dangerously.

"You don't own me, Wesker."

Albert laughed.

"Of course I do, Chris. As CEO of Umbrella and as my lover, I own you."

"How does our sex life have anything to do with this?" Chris asked angrily, arms crossing over his chest as well, mirroring Albert's stance.

"Every thrust, every bite, every time you call out or beg—I claim you, Christopher. You are mine," Wesker said slowly, his lips twisting into a smirk.

Chris lost control and swung his right fist into the general direction of Wesker. Albert, of course, caught it, and directed a reciprocating punch into Chris's stomach. Chris toppled forward, sputtering for air, before being kneed and sent reeling backwards against the dresser. A stinging pain ruptured from the bridge Chris's nose and his hand went to touch it tenderly. Upon lifting his fingers, the glisten of blood could be seen but Albert charging pulled Chris from his wound.

Chris dove out of the way just in time causing him to lose his towel in the process. His old boxers lay feet away from him on the stone floor and he scurried to grab them and pull them on while Albert recovered from running directly into his dresser.

Chris was standing and, slightly, clothed by the time the blonde was facing him again. Neither moved this time though both were panting. Albert's glowing eyes were dying as his anger diminished and the sting on Chris's nose was beginning to grow.

"You should leave," Albert muttered, turning his back on the brunet to open the top drawer of his dresser.

He began shuffling in the drawer before pulling out a pair of briefs to slip on himself.

"You don't own me anymore, Wesker," Chris growled at him, backing up slowly to grab the overnight bag beside the door leading into the hallway.

A flash and Christopher's back was suddenly colliding with the wall beside the doorway. Albert was in front of him, right hand gripping Chris's jaw and forcing the gritted teeth to give a growl. Chris's left hand grasped listlessly at Albert's wrist while his right shoved at the blonde's shoulder and chest.

"I made you captain. What will you do, quit your job? I will send out a warrant for your arrest and I will hunt you down and make you into the test subject that you so hope to save."

Albert released Chris and stepped away. With no time to spare, Chris rushed out of the door, hand grabbing the bag just barely before bolting as fast as bare feet on cold hard stone could carry him.

* * *

"C-Captain."

"Piers," Chris' monotone voice stung at Piers but Chris didn't see considering he didn't lift his head to look at the awaiting male.

"Are you alright?" Piers asked carefully, eyes shifting back and forth across his surroundings before slipping into Chris' office.

"Yes, why?"

Chris still hadn't looked up.

"Y-You're nose, sir."

"It's nothing. What do you want?"

"I wanted to ask something—" Piers gave a shaky sigh and his fingers began to pull at the scarf around his neck while his eyes wandered around the room.

Pictures hung on the walls that told various stories of Chris's life. Claire, S.T.A.R.S, even a single one of Jill Valentine who, to the best of Piers' knowledge, died with the remainder of S.T.A.R.S. In fact, Chris was the only survivor. Brad survived the original T-Virus strike in the mansion but died soon after in Raccoon City, ending up as a zombie much like everyone else.

"Yes?" Chris asked after several quiet moments, eyes on the laptop in front of him.

"A-Are the rumors true?"

"What rumors?" Chris asked, eyes flashing up momentarily to see the awkward standing agent.

"The ones about.. you and… Mr. Wesker…. Sir."

Chris stopped his typing, his hands falling into his lap as he fully turned his attention to Piers. Piers, automatically, stiffened and inhaled to begin defending himself before a look from Chris had him close his mouth and bite his tongue instead. Neither spoke for a full minute and Piers was beginning to wonder if he should just leave when Chris finally responded.

"That's a difficult question to answer and a personal one."

"I-I'm sorry, Captain, I just—" Piers was tripping over words now as he fought his reddening cheeks.

"We were in a relationship, I guess," Chris muttered pulling Piers from his own embarrassment.

"You were?"

"We 'broke up' last night. I don't know how else to put it. It wasn't a very normal relationship."

"I-Is that how you got—" Piers' gaze fell to Chris's nose and Chris sighed.

"Look—"

"He hit you?" Piers asked, eyes wide and voice raised.

"Piers!" Chris hissed, standing and rushing to his door to close it. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, exactly?"

Chris was quiet, eyes avoiding Piers' before he sighed and returned to his desk.

"Maybe you should go, Piers," Chris muttered quickly.

"Captain, you can't just let him get away with something like that!"

"He's CEO of Umbrella, Piers. There's nothing I can do. If you don't want anything else, you should leave."

"A-Actually, what I originally came in here for… was… uhh.." Piers sighed and when his gaze was met by Chris', he blurted out the question in a jumbled mix of words that sounded a lot like "Willyougooutwithmesir."

It took Chris a moment to even understand the question let alone think about an answer. When the words finally registered and he realized that the scared look on Piers' face wasn't going to turn into a smiling laughing one, a single word escaped his lips, "Oh."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's too soon and we work together and I'm just going to go."

Chris said nothing as he sat, dumbfounded and watched Piers shuffled out of the room, head down and hand gripping his scarf roughly.

* * *

"You've returned."

Chris sighed at the dark voice and shifted uncomfortably under the excruciating gaze.

The brunet, for the first time in months, had to knock on the mansion door and was surprised to see Albert answer in his work suit. Chris bit his lip, ignoring the handsome blond as his head dropped and his gaze remained on his boots.

It was a cold day and Chris, who lived several blocks away from the mansion (transformed from a church bought by Umbrella), had walked. Grey storm clouds hung over London threateningly and Chris was sure it would rain. He proved to be right the moment he stepped up to the door because a single drop of rain fell and hit his cheek.

"I left some personal items. I want to get them."

"So you do not plan on returning?"

"You chose Umbrella over me. I'm not surprised, I'm simply accepting it. In case you're wondering, I'm not leaving the B.S.A.A either."

"Oh, I'm well aware. Your belongings are in the study."

Albert stepped aside and opened the door wider allowing Chris to walk inside to the Great Hall. Umbrella has taken over to put it simply. The large cathedral windows of the great hall had red and white stain glass umbrella imprinted in each. The pews were replaced with rich, expensive furniture which sat on stone flooring. A staircase led to the bathroom and bedrooms while a hallway to the side lead to a smaller bathroom and the study.

Chris, despite knowing where it was, followed Albert past a roaring fireplace and into the quieter study. The walls were lined with book shelves filled with countless books, files, and even recovered documents from Umbrella.

A black duffle bag sat on Albert's desk. It was the duffle bag Chris kept permanently in Albert's closet to hold the items he used frequently and it was currently filled with clothes that Chris had left the night before.

Chris said nothing as he stepped forward and grabbed it, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

"I suppose I'll see you at work, sir," Chris muttered.

"Indeed you will, Redfield. I expect your team report on Monday."

"Of course."

Walking home, Chris could care less that his bag was currently soaked through and the clothes within were wet and weighing twice as much as they should have. The brunet wasn't even to the end of the block and his clothes were clinging to his skin, his hair was sticking to his forehead, and he was fighting tears from his eyes.

He knew, better than anyone, that Albert never would have picked him over Umbrella and that there were times when the blonde went overboard but both were guilty of that. Neither seemed to be able to have a relationship without getting into one or two fist fights every once and a while and theirs always ended up with really great sex but Chris simply couldn't look past this.

And it was killing him.

"Captain!"

Chris stopped and looked to see Piers in the driver's seat of a black Cherokee jeep. Piers had pulled the car beside Chris and was currently talking through a rolled down window.

"Piers," Chris stated, gaze falling on the surprised brunet.

"Do you want a ride?" Piers asked, voice rising over the sound of falling rain.

"I live right down the street, actually."

"If you don't mind me saying, Captain, you don't seem like you really want to go home."

Chris thought about Piers' statement for a moment and even looked down the street at the building that his condo was in. He sighed and looked back at Piers before chuckling and giving a nod.

"Yeah, okay."

Chris rounded the car and slid into the passenger's seat before closing the door. Despite being wet, Chris set the duffle bag in his lap and secured the seat belt over his lap. Piers eyed him with a smile, both hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Where to, Captain?"

"I would suggest a bar but—" Chris beckoned to his wet body and Piers laughed.

"My place okay?"

"That's fine."

Piers gave a nod and took the car out of park. Their drive began and when Chris passed his apartment complex, he watched it go by. He sighed as he realized he could only avoid his apartment for so long but he quickly turned his attention to Piers as depression began setting in.

"Thanks for this, Piers."

"Don't mention it, Captain. What's the bag for?"

"Oh.. uh.. I left some belongings at Al—Wesker's house and I was retrieving them."

"And you decided to walk home in the rain?"

"I live a few blocks away, I didn't expect a flood."

"The universe isn't taking kindly to you, sir," Piers said with a chuckle.

"You don't need to keep up titles, Piers. We aren't in the office with bosses breathing down our necks."

"I'll try my best, s—Chris."

* * *

Piers struggled with his keys momentarily while Chris stood behind him. The two were in the hallway of a nice looking apartment complex and, to top it off, Chris saw no sign of Umbrella influence within the building. Once the door was unlocked, with a hand on the doorknob, Piers smiled awkwardly back at Chris who returned the smile.

"I-I don't really have much time to clean and—"

"Don't worry," Chris said with a laugh, reaching over Piers' shoulder to push the door open.

The door swung open revealing a dimly lit apartment. It was clean, much cleaner than Chris' apartment anyway. The front door led directly into the living room; two black leather couches sat across from each other with a coffee table between them. A flat screen television was hanging on the wall with hung pictures around it and various paintings were spread throughout the room.

The dining room was an extension of the living room and an elongated black table with two matching chairs on either side sat relatively close to the wall it was beside. The table was empty except for a flower and vase which sat in the very center of the table.

Piers led the way through the living room and Chris saw a glimpse of the kitchen. A dish or two sat in the sink but the countertops were clear and everything seemed perfectly clean. The two continued through a door across from the kitchen which led to Piers' room.

"This place is spotless," Chris muttered as he entered the room.

Piers simply chuckled.

Piers' bed was made with a Siamese cat curled up on the blue comforter that covered it. Another flat screen was hanging on the wall across from the bed and a dresser was pushed up against the right of Piers' bed to make room for the desk on the opposite side. Piers blushed slightly and made his way to the closet, opening it and stepping inside.

"Let me see… oh, here—" Piers pulled a pair of sweats from the hanger and, after a moment of searching, simply could not find a shirt that would fit over Chris' body. "Sorry I couldn't find you a shirt," Piers muttered, offering the sweats to Chris with a frown.

"It's fine," Chris said with a chuckle, taking the sweats. "These will be fine. Anything to get out of these wet clothes, really."

"Alright I'll leave you to it. If you want to give me the clothes in your duffle bag, I could throw them in the drier with the clothes you're wearing."

"Yeah I'll grab them out after I get dressed."

"Alright," Piers turned on his heel and began towards the door.

"Hey—" Piers stopped and turned slightly to look back at Chris who was suddenly speaking. "Thanks for this. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Cap—Chris. That will take some getting used to," Piers laughed before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Chris opened the door, wet clothes in hand, and found Piers gone. Chris stepped out of the room, the sound of naked feet on linoleum echoing through the quiet room. Chris bit his lip and took another few steps, looking around the corner into the living room to find it empty.

"Piers?" Chris called.

"In here!"

Chris turned on his heel and followed the voice through a closed door that just happened to lead to a small laundry room. The room was only big enough to hold a washer and drier but the walls were lined with shelves to hold laundry necessities.

"Sorry, I should have said I was going to be in here," Piers stated as he played with one of the drier's nobs.

"It's fine, really. I have the clothes," Chris stated, offering him the pile.

"Gre—" Piers had turned and finally caught glimpse of Chris's half naked body, muscles bulging and still slightly wet from the rain. "Great," Piers said with a clear of his throat, taking the pile quickly before shoving them into the drier.

Chris stepped out of the room and Piers followed, closing the door behind him. The two made their way into the living room where Chris chose one couch and Piers chose the other.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Piers asked, eyes skimming Chris's upper arms before flashing to the brunette's eyes.

"I'm fine," Chris said with a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm getting wine. If you'd like some—"

"Yes, please," Chris said with a grin causing Piers to laugh.

Piers walked to the kitchen and began rummaging around through his cupboards. Once two glasses had been pulled out and the bottle was retrieved, Piers was making his way back to the living room, both glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other.

"You know—" Piers began, setting the two glasses down on the wooden table before uncorking the wine. "I feel like I should apologize for earlier."

"Why?" Chris asked, eyes flashing between the pouring wine and Piers.

"It was… unprofessional to ask you out and after what that bastard did to you—" Piers sighed and slid the full wine glass towards Chris. "I shouldn't have asked."

"You ran out before I really got to say anything," Chris said, grabbing the wine glass and putting it to his lips.

"I didn't want to make it anymore awkward than it already was. This is my way of making it up to you, I guess," Piers said, setting the wine bottle down to pick up his own glass. "Do you want to tell me why you don't want to go home?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Chris said with an apologetic look at Piers. "Just—that place reminds me of Wesker."

"That's understandable," Piers said with a frown as he sat on the couch. "Umbrella owns everything which means Wesker owns everything."

"Exactly," Chris said with a sigh. "Albert Wesker is power hungry… always has been."

"I thought you said you didn't want to talk about it," Piers teased lightly, a small smile on his lips.

"You're right, I don't," Chris said matter-of-factly before taking a drink of his wine.

Several minutes went by of silence as they took their drinks in strides, Chris thinking of Wesker and Piers thinking of Chris. Piers was caught up on a specific part of Chris' chest that shimmered with every breath and was too far gone to hear Chris speaking. By the time Chris was trying to get Piers' attention, Piers was leaned back, legs crossed over a growing bulge, bottom lip between his teeth, and his hand gripping his wine glass a little too hard.

"Piers," Chris said more forcefully, pulling Piers from his entrancement.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Piers asked, shifting slightly in his seat.

"I said for the record, I wouldn't have said no."

"To what?" Piers asked, mind fluttering into every direction it possibly could.

"To a date. It might have been unprofessional but it wasn't unwanted and bad timing or not, Wesker and I were never really dating. It was fun, really—well, for him…. The point is—if you still want to—"

"Before you say anything, Chris, I want to make it clear that I don't want what you and Wesker had."

"I never wanted it either, really. I wanted something real but—I want to do it right, this time. I want to go on dates, I want to learn things about each other besides who you've killed lately, and don't want to just sleep with you."

"G-Good," Piers said with a small smile, his grip tightening on the wine glass yet again as Chris smiled back.

"Piers, would you like to see a movie with me?"

* * *

They were both fumbling; Chris was trying to take it slow but damn was Piers horny. The two were connected at the mouth and, despite a long talk, were quickly on their way to Piers' bedroom. The movie had been enjoyed and Chris had kissed Piers in the car and suddenly they were here. Neither were drunk and yet they were acting like idiotic teenagers.

"Wait, wait—" Chris said, pulling from the kiss, his hands on Piers' naked shoulders. "Are you sure about this?"

Piers, who was panting, locked eyes with Chris before shrugging.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "The only way I see either one of us regretting this is if we never get past this point and I, personally, have every intention on attending another date with you."

"Then you're sure?"

"Yeah, Chris. I'm sure."

Chris smiled and leaned in for another kiss, having it happily accepted by Piers. The closer the two got to Piers' bedroom, the less awkward it became. Each step was less of a trip and more of a stride and each touch was less needy and more sensual.

Piers sat on the bed first, kicking off the last of his clothing which just happen to be his boxers as he slid back onto the bed, lying on his back. Chris stepped out of his own boxers and kicked them aside before climbing onto the bed after Piers.

Chris had crawled between Piers' legs and almost continued kissing him but stopped when he caught a glimpse of Piers' body while in the light from the lamp to the right of them, Chris saw everything—the lusty, confident look on Piers, the red tint in his cheeks, the heavy rise and fall of Piers' chest. Chris sighed and his lips rose into a smile causing Piers to grow confused.

"What's wrong?" Piers asked causing Chris to laugh.

"Nothing… Just—" Chris paused and gave Piers a long once over, his eyes gliding from Piers' brown eyes to his prominent but not overly muscular chest. "—You're perfect."

The red tint on Piers' cheeks deepened and spread down his neck as he looked away.

"Chris," he muttered with a laugh.

Chris used his right hand to lift Piers' face back up but removed it when he realized Wesker did exactly that to him the day before. Instead, he simply smiled and leaned in for a chaste kiss before allowing Piers to dig out lube and condoms from his dresser.

Chris accepted the condom that was handed to him and tore it open before slipping it on his already hard prick. He set the wrapper aside and turned back to Piers who had a hand between his legs, rubbing lube around his entrance. Piers handed the bottle to Chris who was far too entranced with Piers' actions to even notice.

Piers was chewing the inside of his lip, eyes dark with lust and meeting Chris' gaze dead on as he slipped a finger within himself.

"D-Don't bother prepping me," Piers said, removing his finger and shaking Chris from his trance.

"Wha—I don't want to hurt you," Chris said in protest, head foggy as he twisted the cap from lube and squirted a generous amount onto his palm.

"You won't," Piers said with a blush. "I.. uh.. I'm still… from last night... when I.. uh—"

Chris laughed and pressed his lips to Piers' shutting the brunet up quite properly.

"Vibrator?" Chris asked with a smirk.

Piers simply nodded.

"We will be using that in the future," Chris promised as he spread the lube over himself.

Piers laughed and wrapped his arms around Chris as the brunet laid over him. Chris used his right hand to guide himself to Piers' entrance while his left supported himself. Once Chris was positioned, his right hand copied his left and both were now holding him up. He looked down to Piers for some sort of reassurance but Piers was far too interested in Chris's upper arms.

Piers' fingers traced the bulges of Chris's arm, lip between his teeth and his eyes following the movement of his fingers. Piers' head tilted to the side as his right hand traced down Chris' left arm, following the curves of each muscle and feeling them flex against his fingertips.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Piers said in a whisper, the tips of his fingernails gliding over the sensitive, hot skin.

"The look on your face when you spaced out earlier—I thought you were going to break the wine glass," Chris said with a laugh.

"I should've given you a blanket or something," Piers muttered with a laugh. "I couldn't stop thinking about—" Piers trailed off and his eyes met Chris's again.

"About?"

"This."

"No pressure, then," Chris said with a smile before leaning down and capturing Piers' lips again. "Tell me if I hurt you," he stated seriously between kisses and Piers simply nodded.

Chris pushed in and fought back a shudder at the sudden warmth and tightness. Piers let out a breath and gripped anxiously at Chris's upper arms. Chris almost took that as a sign to stop but Piers' blissful facial expression encouraged him against it.

Once skin touched skin, Chris stopped and waited for Piers to stop tensing around him. Piers lifted his head to meet Chris' lips again and Chris began to pull out. The two kept connected at the lips as Chris thrust back into Piers. Moans got lost and muffled in the kiss while touches became less sensual and more erotic.

Chris quickly chose a speed after shifting onto his knees so he was no longer using his arms to hold himself up. He used the newfound leverage to delve deeper into Piers and, essentially, had no issues after that. Chris stayed out of rhythm purposely, and soon had Piers arching into quick thrusts while having him moaning through the deep, slow thrusts.

Piers' fingertips were soon digging into Chris' back, the tips of his nails grazing the sweaty skin as the sound of his gasps and pants mixed with skin on skin contact filled the room. Chris, who was normally loud during sex, found himself quiet as he was far too interested in the noises Piers made. Every gasp, pant, and moan had Chris holding back a groan.

As Chris felt the pooling pleasure in his lower stomach, he leaned forward, kissing Piers' neck in the process before whispering, "touch yourself."

Piers didn't both questioning the sudden command and simply nodded before lifting his right hand from Chris' upper arm. He wrapped it around his prominent member and began stroking himself slowly. After a minute or so of Chris trying desperately to stop himself from coming, he spoke again.

"Faster."

His voice was gruff, filled with lust, and was just enough to push Piers over the edge.

* * *

It had been three months and the two men were inseparable. They tried to hide their relationship at work but it could only last so long before people began walking in on them kissing which apparently was not much a surprise to anyone besides Wesker who had managed to avoid such an incident until… well.. now.

"Sir," Chris stated, straightening and moving away from Piers who had been pushed against the wall in his office. Piers simply cleared his throat and fought a blush.

"Redfield. Nivans," the blonde's eyes flashed back and forth between the two before landing on Chris. "How long has this been happening?"

"That's a little personal, sir."

"I wouldn't be asking if I hadn't just seen you attempt to eat Mr. Nivans' face, Christopher."

"A while," Chris answered through his teeth.

"You seem—" Albert's lips twisted into a smirk. "—Happy."

"Sir—"

"Piers, quiet," Chris hissed towards his boyfriend, eyes still on Wesker.

"That's right, Mr. Nivans, quiet. The adults are talking."

"Sir, if the only reason you're here is to belittle myself or Piers, then forgive me if I ask you to leave," Chris said, hands in white knuckled fists.

"I'm simply here to inform you of an upcoming mission," Wesker stated, hands locked behind his back and his deadly smirk still visible.

"Where will we be going?" Chris asked, gaze hardening.

"Africa."


End file.
